


Juno Steel and the Case that Never Ended

by ghostmentality



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Case Fic, Not Beta Read, Oops, Other, its eventually a gay thing i promise, juno is oblivious and peter is sneaky, so basically just like always
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 13:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19377715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostmentality/pseuds/ghostmentality
Summary: Juno Steel was a lot of things, but he wasn’t sentimental, at least he didn’t think he was. So why can’t he get that blasted man out of his head, and that cologne? How in the hell had that scent shown up in his office, and why was it clinging to a strange woman demanding Juno find her missing...something? Juno Steel and the Case that Never Ended. AKA as the one where two gays finally find happiness because I can’t handle the end of season one, and my friend won’t let me read fanfiction until I finish season two, so I just have to write it myself.





	Juno Steel and the Case that Never Ended

Hyperion City. Some people say it’s the most beautiful place in the galaxy. The rest of us live here. I had almost gotten out, skipped town to galavant from planet to planet like some 20 something-year-old lady with a warm feeling in his gut and nothing to lose. But then I didn’t. I up and took a midnight stroll to say one last goodbye to my city and wound up back at my office, feet up on my desk and vodka in my glass. I sat there looking out the window as the sun rose, watching the city come to life as it’s inhabitants woke for the day, and when my assistant, Rita, stumbled in half asleep and an hour late, I didn’t say anything. I only leaned over and deleted the answering machine message without listening to it. Nothing I wanted to hear anyway.

I think about that moment from time to time, but I don’t dare contemplate if I made the wrong decision. It was months ago, and it never would have worked out anyhow. I’m a Detective, and he’s a master thief. I’m too messy, and he’s too clean, too sure of himself. Besides, I have a city to protect, and I can’t very well do that while chasing after some fantasy feeling across the galaxy. Hyperion City was my home, is my home.

I was thinking about him a lot on the day I took the Margaret Blithe case. Maybe because of his goddamn smell or because the M.O. sounded a lot like a certain someone who I don’t like to mention. Stirs up too much...stuff, but goddamn did my brain not care about that as it instantly brought him up every day.

The last time I saw Peter Nureyev he was sleeping like a baby curled up on his side with one arm tucked under his head. The last time I’d heard Peter Nureyev’s voice it had been when he’d sleepily called my name as I slipped from the rumpled sheets and walked out on him. The one thing that would never leave my mind was that godforsaken smell of his, that mysterious cologne that quickened my breath and dried my mouth quicker than a night after a bottle of tequila and lime. The last time I’d smelled Peter Nureyev was...right now actually.

I stiffened and sat up at my desk, glaring across the room toward where Rita was just stepping away from the recently opened door, more of that scent wisking it’s way toward me. My shoulders tensed as I watched and waited. A woman stepped through the door, and my shoulders sagged. Not him then, but that smell. “Must be that stupid cologne,” I muttered, shuffling the papers on my desk as I tried not to listen to Rita’s blasted rambling.

“You know, my boss is not very busy today. He’ll have plenty of time to help you out, Ma’am. And maybe you’ll be able to get him out of the office for a while, and I can sit over at his fancy desk and use his fancy monitor. He broke mine and is forcing me to use this tiny screen here. It’s just not big enough for my shows. I can finally get back to my Janette Snow and the Man that Wasn’t a Man marathon. It’s really very interesting, you see, Janette Snow is the main character, though you probably could’ve guessed from the title, anyway, her husband isn’t actually her husband at all, he’s a secret spy for the Martian military! It’s really very exciting. And then when you least expect it BAM! The baby isn’t even hers! I mean come on! Who’d have guessed it?”

My eyes glazed over as Rita kept talking, the woman glanced over at me with an eyebrow raised. Her eyes pierced through me. They were blue, bright blue, nearly glowing. I felt a warmth in my stomach. My eyes flicked to the woman’s lips. Maybe...?

When the woman spoke it shattered that fantasy. Her sickly sweet voice grated at my skull, knocking anything else I’d been thinking about deeper, much deeper...but maybe that was a good thing.

“I’d like to talk to Mister Steel now, if I may.” She hummed, nodding in my direction as Rita’s voice stuttered to a stop.

“Of course.” Rita fluttered her arms and directed the woman to me. “Mistah Steel. It’s for you.”

“Thank you, Rita. Get back to work now.”

“Alright, alright. I tell ya.” She mumbled under her breath as she stomped away.

“What can I do for you...ahh?” I paused, eyebrows raised.

“Call me Margaret. Margaret Blithe.”

“Ms. Blithe, Margaret, how may I be of service?”

“I need you to find something that was taken from me.”

A typical theft case then. No big deal. It’ll be over and done with by lunchtime tomorrow. “What exactly was stolen?”

“Taken, not stolen, and I can’t tell you that.”

“Well, do you know who took it?”

“I can’t tell you that either.”

My organic eye twitched. “Well, what can you tell me then?”

“It was taken from my office at precisely 3 o’clock yesterday afternoon, while I was sitting at my desk finalizing my reports. I really need this item back, Mister Steel. I need it back right now.”

“If you were sitting right there, then how did the person get away with it, huh?”

“By force, Detective. I didn’t say it disappeared. I saw it go.”

Huh. Ok then. “If you know who took it, then why not tell me. It’d make my job a lot easier.”

“I’m afraid I can’t, Detective. You’ll have to do without that piece of information.”

“And when I figure it out anyway?”

Margaret shrugged, “You are the Detective here, Mister Steel. Here’s the address. Find my belonging.” She gingerly placed a slip of paper on my desk, then sauntered out, slamming the door behind her.

“Huh.” Rita called from across the room, “That sure was interesting, Boss.”

I gave Rita the paper. “Look up this address. Tell me everything you can about the office building and its inhabitants.”

Rita typed at her computer for a minute, then stilled. “Huh. This address ain’t an office building, Mistah Steel. It’s an apartment building.”

“Okay, well some people work from home, Rita, what else?”

“Well, it's not just an apartment building, Mistah Steel.” She paused, possibly to gain suspense.

“Out with it, Rita!” I was growing impatient.

“It’s an abandoned apartment building.” She drew out the added word like it was something magical. “How exciting!”

“Oh, lovely. I’m having such a good time already.”

“I think you’re joking, Mistah Steel, but you know I can’t always tell.”

“Just find out what you can, Rita, I’m getting my things and heading down there. Call me  with any information you find.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t start watching Janette Whatever and the Man who Whatever as soon as I leave. I’m serious, Rita. I want that information as soon as possible, you understand?”

“Mistah Steel! It’s Janette Snow and the Man who-”

“I don’t care, Rita, just do what I asked!”

“Okay okay, No need to yell. I’m right in front of you, ya know.”

“I wouldn’t yell if you would just listen every once in a while.”

“Whatever.” She muttered and turned away from me with a huff and started typing rapidly. I grabbed my coat and, after a second of thought, I clipped my blaster to my belt before heading out. Who knows what exactly I was walking into. Whatever it was, I knew Margaret Blithe wasn’t being entirely honest with me, and she sure was keeping a lot to herself. Kind of hard to find something if I didn’t know what it was or anything about who had taken it. Hopefully, her “office” would give me some sort of clue.

 ---

It didn’t take me too long to find the office. There were signs directing me right toward it. Although Rita said the building was abandoned apartments, it looked quite used. No one was around, but the hall lights were on. I entered the office labeled “Margaret Blithe: Director of _____” The last word was scratched out and entirely indecipherable. Hmm, interesting.

As soon as I opened the door I could smell it again. That damned cologne they seemed to have in common. I shook my head, clearing it as I poked around for a while. Nothing seemed to be amiss. There was no trace of an intruder, now evidence left behind hinting at who it could be or where they could have gone. Except for that scent, the office was entirely clean of anything but neatly stacked papers and locked filing cabinets. After about an hour of wasted time, I backed out of the room, intending to call the number Margaret Blithe had also scrawled at the bottom of the paper with this address. No answer.

I slid into my car with a sigh. I’d call back later. There had to be something she could tell me. There was absolutely nothing in that office, and I hadn’t seen a single security camera in the building, so no way to catch the thief on video. Just to be sure, I called Rita. “Hey, Rita?”

“Yeah, Boss?”

“Happen to see if there were any hidden cameras in the apartment?”

“Nuh uh, Mistah Steel. No cameras that I could find in the blueprints or nothing.”

“Thanks, Rita. Anything else amiss?”

“Nope. They just run a consulting business outta there. Nothing weird at all.”

“Alright. I’m heading back, see you soon.”

“But, Boooosss!”

“Rita. Go back to your own desk and do some work.”

“Fine!” She hung up. I tossed the comm into the passenger seat and turned the ignition. Two things happened then. 1: My old ass car sputtered to life. 2: Something about a foot underneath my seat ticked to life. It seemed as though my luck’d run out. I was two leaps away from the car when it blew, shrapnel tearing into my neck. I laid on my stomach, stunned, as I assessed the damage. Minor burns to my lower back and the backs of my thighs. Wounds slightly bleeding on the back of my neck where the metal had gotten me, and a hunk of metal protruding from my right bicep. I pushed myself to my knees and looked behind me. “My car.” I moaned as I took in the ball of flames that used to be my most prized possession.

I gritted my teeth and yanked the metal from my arm. I then began the long walk back to the office.

Hours later when I entered, Rita was at her own desk sulking. I shuffled further into the room and could tell by the huge gasp and squeal when she finally looked up at me.

“Mistah Steeeel! What happened to you!” She jumped to her feet and rushed me.

“Nothing much, just a car bomb, that’s all.”

“Oh my god, Mistah Steel! A bomb!” She fluttered around me as I limped to my desk.

“First aid kit?” I grunted, sliding into my chair. She gave it to me and watched horrified as I smeared cream on and haphazardly wrapped bandages around my wounds. After less than a minute of this, the phone rang. We ignored it, but after a second of silence, they called back.

I picked it up, “Hello?” I grunted, shifting my weight to lessen the pressing on my thighs. Static. “Hello?” I tried again, louder this time.

Through the static, I couldn’t hear what the person on the other end was saying, but they were clearly frantic. I could make out only a three words several seconds apart. “Dead”, “Juno”, and “Help.”

“Rita track this number!” I shouted, stabbing my finger in her direction. “Hello? Hello? Who is this? Do you need help?”

Nothing but static. Rita’s computer pinged and she said, “Got it, Boss”, just as the caller hung up. I shoved myself to my feet and took Rita’s offered slip of paper. An address was cleanly written on it in purple pen. “Be careful, Boss. You’re hurt real bad, I think.”

“I’ll be fine, Rita.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go. Maybe you can just call the police or somethin’?”

“They said my name, Rita. I have to go. Besides, when have the police ever listened to our tips before?”

“Just...I worry about you, Boss. Be careful, okay?”

“Yeah yeah, okay, Rita.” I paused at the door. “Rita?”

“Yeah, Boss?” She looked at me expectantly.

“Gimme your keys.”

“Ohhh but, Boooss!” Her face scrunched up as she whined at me.

“Rita!” She tossed them to me, and I caught them with my uninjured arm before turning back to the door.

“No car bombs please, Mistah Steel.”

“No promises,” I replied as I walked through the door. I shut it and continued. “Don’t know if I could survive another one, anyway.” I looked down at the slip of paper. “That’s not too far out of the city, maybe an hour from here just about.”

I climbed into Rita’s car and took off toward the address. “Let’s just hope I’m not too late.”


End file.
